No One to Blame
by Viral
Summary: Logan realizes that there is no one to blame but himself for the pain he feels at Ororo's funeral.


Title: No One to Blame

Author: Viral

Author's Notes: This is just a short story to get my fingers back in motion before I get back into my unfinished fictions because I haven't been around for awhile. Hopefully, it will be entertaining. Many thanks to Darlin for posting her stories on ff.net and allowing me to be inspired. :)

-=-=-=-

I really guess I should be accustomed to coming to the funerals of people I care about, but this one really takes the cake. I can hardly stand to be here and can't believe I traveled clear across the Atlantic to Africa just to get more upset. Jeannie's over there crying her little head off and One-Eye is holding onto her and crying to. Xavier had a mental breakdown, but he's stable enough to be here to see his _daughter _buried.

Gumbo and Rogue are at the front of the line, looking down into Ororo's casket and sobbing. About two hundred of these people here are people I don't even know and don't want to know. But I guess Ororo really did touch a lot of people's lives to have such a huge turnout. Yukio, Lilandra, and Erik are here paying their respects to the Beautiful Windrider. Even Callisto is here, shedding tears under the hot African sun. Every soul present was mourning, and every pair of eyes shedding a tear except mine.

As I move to the head of the line I take a glimpse at Ororo's silent body and immediately I lose my breath. My thoughts jumble in my head as I remember every moment we ever shared. A lump rises in my throat and before I know, I too am releasing tears uncontrollably. I look at her silvery, white hair that is still somehow intact with her cold, lifeless body. Her smooth, caramel skin is already beginning to discolor and I realize how beautiful she really is and how worthy her legacy is.

"Curse you, Ororo," I whisper so low that even I can hardly hear it, hurting inside and wishing that she could still be alive, somehow. I pull a letter, dressed in an unmarked envelope, out of my pocket and open it up. I read the contents to Ororo's silent body, pausing frequently to wipe tears from my eyes and then continuing.

_Dear Ororo,_

_    I don't know how to start this off, so I'll keep it simple, Darlin: I need you, Ro. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of you or wish that I was laying next to you when I go to sleep. Your gentle blue eyes do something to me that no one else could ever do. You take the animal out of me and turn me into a little baby. You open my eyes to things I'd never be able to see, like the beauty of nature. If anybody would've asked me what nature was before I met you, I would have said survival of the fittest. But after I met you my answered turned into, "A beautiful African American woman with white hair, blue eyes, and an incomparable way of carrying herself." See, you even make me articulate words on paper that would never come out of my mouth in speech. Ro, you do something to my mind and my body that I can't explain – but I know I don't want to be without you. So the secret's out. I need you and you know it... so why are we playing this "just friends" game? Ro, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to have to tell me how I feel and what I know. I know that you are the only woman for me and I am the **only **man for you. Want to know how I know? Because I can finally say, "I love you," and not be scared of the consequences. Ororo, I think it's time we talked because there's no more time for me to ignore my needs. And what I need is you._

_- Logan_

I put the letter, one that I had written six months before, back into the envelope. I had written it and planned on giving it to her, but had stuck it in my drawer and never dared to take it out. Ororo made me weak. She turned me into a sap just like Jean did to Scott – and I couldn't have that. I needed to be _Wolverine_. Not _Logan. _Logan didn't put fear in people's hearts and Logan wasn't a survivor. He was a natural man and Ororo's presence brought him to the forefront.

I walk away from the casket, intentionally avoiding all eyes, even Jubilee's, before pulling out a cigar and stepping away from the outdoor seating. The tears I had cried had evaporated from my face and now there is just simply internal reminiscing. I look at the arranged seating. There are two aisles created by three sets of chairs. Each set contains nine columns and eight rows. Behind Ororo's casket stands a beautiful statue made by her tribe that serves as an ornamental fountain, marking her grave and resting place.

"Wolvie, are you gonna be okay?" Jubilee says, approaching me with sad, brown eyes.

"Don't know about this one, Jubes," I respond, groggily.

"Well you know, it's all your fault," she says, stepping back a few inches.

"What?!" I yell confused and angry.

"It's all your fault, Logan!" Jean says, a frown on her face as she walks towards me. Before I know it the entire crowd is yelling at me, making a circle around me and blaming me.

"What's my fault?" I yell, extending my arms and releasing my six adamantium claws, daring one more person to step closer.

"It's your fault that you're regretting everything that's happening here!" Erik says, holding out his hand and bending my claws so that they would be useless.

"And it's your fault Ororo had to die a lugubrious, lonely death," Hank adds, effusively.

"You asked for it, bub!" I yell, charging at Hank with anger and tears in my eyes but I'm stopped as my body begins to float in the air. Everybody else's body seems to fade, as everything around me turns dark. As far as I can see there is nothing but darkness until Ororo suddenly appears and floats towards me, holding out her arms.

"Logan, don't cry for me... I am still with you," she says, her voice soft and gently. Her hair falls down gently down to the middle of her back in curly strands of white. Her blue eyes tell a story that only the sky had been able to tell before.

"God, you're beautiful, Ro," I whisper floating to her and almost grabbing her hand. But her body begins to fade. "Ro? Storm? Ororo! Ro!" I yell at the top of my lungs.

My heart beats fast as I wake up in the dark, solitary means of my room at the mansion. I look around the room, everything as I remember it. I stand up and walk over to my dresser where I open a drawer and pull out a dusty envelope with an old letter in it. "It was a dream..." I sigh in relief before I hear someone at my door.

It opens slowly and allows a beam of light to come in from the hallway. "Logan," is the first word I hear, and I turn around to see Ororo standing there, dressed in her silk, white nightgown and hair falling onto her shoulder and matching the color of her attire. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I say abruptly, closing the drawer. "Sure. Why?"

"You called my name several times," she notes, tilting her head to the side with concern.

"Oh – that. I had another nightmare," I reply, not lying. My life would be a nightmare without her. "This amnesia thing takes some weird routes."

"Are you sure there isn't anything you want to discuss?" she asks, walking into the room and looking me directly in the eye.

I look away before nodding my head no. This woman actually intimidates me.

"Well, have a good night," she says with heavy concern still in her voice. She gives me a hug and I squeeze her back, kissing her gently on the cheek.

"I love you Darlin," I say suddenly, meaning every single syllable that exits my mouth and heart.

"I love you too, Logan," she responds. She kisses me on the cheek and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her.

I sit down on my bed and look to the drawer with the letter in it. "I'll wait just one more day," I say to myself, laying my head back down on the pillow. But if that "one more day" turns into another six months and I lose Ororo forever, there will be no one to blame but myself, because next time it might not be a dream.


End file.
